


Mechanic, At Your Service

by purpleprosepatty



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Adult Content, F/M, Fanfiction, Outdoor Sex, Porn With Plot, Sex in a Car, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleprosepatty/pseuds/purpleprosepatty
Summary: Mr RM Taylor is here to give your car a fix, for a special price you can't just miss...Adult female reader x Roger Taylor (late 1970s era), inspired by thistweetCONTENT WARNING: Explicit sexual scenes
Relationships: Roger Taylor (Queen)/Original Female Character(s), Roger Taylor (Queen)/Reader, Roger Taylor/Female Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Mechanic, At Your Service

**Author's Note:**

> Personally, the idea for this smutfic is, well, lame. You know, reminiscent of those porn vids with a plot (think Brazzers, XNXX...). 
> 
> But I'm sorry, I don't think I have enough talent as a fiction writer.

Picture this: You're a successful associate who is earning well; you have your own home, your own car. One weekend afternoon, you are trying to take the car out for a leisurely drive when the engine refuses to start. The car is a clean, simple four-door sedan and is only less than ten years old. But you just can't let the car break down, of course. So you decided to look into the directory for a trusty mechanic. 

Then you just remembered that one calling card a friend of yours gave to you a few years ago. In a hurry, you look for your purse and there it is:

****

RM Taylor

Experienced Car Mechanic

+44 726-CAR-LOVE

And it was then a funny memory revisits you: you used to think that the 'R.M.' meant 'Roger Meddows' - in reference to the hot blonde drummer from Queen. That man has been the subject of many of those random daydreams. What if this car repair thing was his sideline? You giggle away at the thought as you attempt to dial the number. After three beeps, a male voice comes in: "Hello! You've reached RM Taylor's Car Repair Hotline. May I know who is this?" The accent is unmistakably British - is this _really_ the man of your fantasies... or someone who is also British and just happens to have a similar name initial? Nevertheless, you clear your throat and reply: 

"Hi... uh... this is Y/N. Would you be available on Saturday next week? The engine's got a problem and I'm not sure what it is exactly..."

"Ahh, not a problem. Kindly provide me your address so I can have the car fixed. What time would be available, Ms. Y/N?"

"I'll be at home all day by that time, but you can come in around 10:00 am or in the afternoon."

"Not a problem. Well then, I'll see you next weekend and I'll also send you details of the payment for the repair after this call, Ms. Y/N. Bye for now."

You feel like almost melting after hearing the man's voice and posh accent. But you had some doubts. What if the man is a creep? You've heard a few horror stories of fake home service repairers, like stealing stuff and worse, perverted ones. Nevertheless you give him your exact address afterwards. As for the problem of getting to work without your car, you have no choice but to do public transportation for the next five days.

Saturday morning came and you decided to sleep in until 10:30 am, when your phone rang. It was Mr Taylor. "Hi, Ms. Y/N. This is the mechanic. I'm here at this address you sent me last week. Are you there?" Quickly you reply: "Oh hi! Yes, I'll be downstairs for a minute. What's the color of your car, sir?" "I'm in a red sports car..." was the man's answer. Weird...a repairman in a sports car? Anyways you tell him that you'll be at the gate in a minute or two. Your hair is still a mess, and you decided to wear a loose denim jacket as you're just in a skimpy shirt and short shorts, without any bra or panties underneath - luckily the jacket covers up to your thighs.

As you head to the door, you notice the top of a red car parked in front of the gate. Upon opening the gate, the man steps out of his car's front door - a fairly tall blonde - carrying his big toolbox along. He smiles while approaching you, flashing a neat set of white teeth. Your heart starts to throb loudly upon seeing his grin.

"Good day, miss. You must be Miss... Y/N...?"

"Um, yes, sir," you reply sheepishly. "And you must be Mr Taylor, the mechanic?"

"But of course..." he replies quite confidently. He doesn't look like a mechanic to you - more like an actor... or a musician. And why the heck he reminds you of that drummer you love so much? "Thanks, Mr. Taylor. Come with me, I'll show you the car..." you welcome him to the front yard, where your car has been stationary for a week, a big gray sheet draped over it. You try so well to hide your blushing face from him as you remove the covering and open up the front hood. He immediately takes a look at it. "You've got a stunning car here, miss," remarks the mechanic with a smile. "Why thanks," you reply, "by the way, you can inspect it now. I'll just get some refreshments..." The mechanic smiles back instead at you. Your face had gotten so flushed with embarrassment as you quickly walk up to the kitchen. _That smile! That darned smile!_ You swear to the heavens that he looks like the Mr Taylor you've been crushing on as a teen. Opening the fridge, you take out two bottles of water. Then you open one of them to drink it, but some of them spill on your shirt, the cold liquid perking up your bare nipples through the wet fabric. Obviously you didn't care about the wet stains on your shirt as you walk back to where Mr Taylor the Mechanic is, you carrying a tray of the other water bottle, a glass and a sandwich you bought from a convenience store you bought the night before but didn't bother eating it.

"I've got a few refreshments with me. I'll just place them here on this bench..." you place the tray on a nearby bench, smiling at the mechanic. He then gets up, removes his sunglasses and beamed: "I've got it - a few wires, connected to the car battery, have been worn out. Good thing I brought a handful of spare wires with me." He looks back at the car. "I can test this for you, no extra charge."

 _Wait a second_ , you thought, _am I talking to the man himself... the man I've always crushed on? The man whose sleepy blue eyes stole my heart??_ Just as when the car engine successfully started up, he turns to you and says, "250 quid, miss." You hear him, but you can't easily reply upon looking at those round yet droopy blue eyes.

"Miss Y/N? Y'alright?" Mr Taylor comes closer. Immediately you regain your composure and say: "Sorry. Yeah, 250 is okay." Then you reach to your small purse and hand him the cash payment. The mechanic then counts the money; you notice the tip of his tongue slightly caught between his perfect set of teeth as he confirms the cash he received before slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. "You gave me 400 though."

"Well, I earn my keep so... you can have it, mister-"

"Roger," says the mechanic. "Now don't tell anyone that I do this sideline when I'm bored." Then he gives you a reassuring wink, making you blush. What you don't know is that he noticed the small bumps of your already hardening nipples through the wet patch on your shirt.

"I promise I won't, um, Roger." You suddenly feel some kind of liquid heat from your bare pussy underneath your shorts. "By the way, would you like to stay... for a while? Before you go, that is?"

Mr "Mechanic" looks around and takes off his jacket. "Well, I could stay... yes," then he looks back at you, "I was just concerned with the wet spot on your shirt..." _Fuck! He saw my wet shirt!_ You clear your throat and try to save yourself from embarrassment. "Don't mind me, Mr Taylor... I was just, you know, thirsty..."

"Ahh, I see..." He goes even closer to you now, and you can feel his warm breath. "I don't mind seeing your nice tits naked beneath your shirt, either."

"Actually, I am all naked beneath, Mr Mechanic-"

"Shhhh... I'm here to provide you excellent service. And a little more." No hesitation, and he pulls you by the waist with his soft hands. "A bit of a shag would be nice before I get home..." And that's when he puts his lips against yours ever so suddenly - they felt so soft, and there was a faint taste of cigarette in his mouth once he starts to explore your own taste.

Unbelievable. Mr Taylor the Part-Time Mechanic just kissed you. He was low-key in need of a quickie while on his sideline job. Those deep blue eyes staring into your soul too, all the while his left hand pulls down your shorts and his right slips inside your shirt, pulling in the opposite direction. In one move, your firm tits and your pussy, covered by a trimmed bush of hair, are bared before Mr Taylor's eyes. "You just don't know how much I wanted this, Mr Mechanic," you breathe anxiously, "I'm all yours to shag." Never mind your large areolas nor the slight fat on your tummy - the look on Mr Taylor's face says it all. "For one, I've never seen such exotic-looking knockers..." Mr Taylor says in a deliciously low tone, fingers circling around your areolas. Then he slowly squeezes both your tits, making you moan uncontrollably. He lets out a naughty smirk upon seeing your face of pleasure, and proceeds to suck of nipple and areola at once while his hands knead on your thighs and the soft mound of your pussy. The blonde then sucks your other tit in the same manner, eyes closed and long eyelashes tickling your chest, eliciting low moans with every sucking motion.

"Hold them for me, honey..." His voice gets deliciously deep as he commands you. Holding your tits together for him so obligingly, your attention is drawn to his sapphire eyes as he kisses down your soft tummy. Then Mr Taylor stops for a while to admire your naked pussy. "I think we better do this in the backseat..." He grins yet again, and your pussy couldn't get any wetter than that. Opening the back door quickly, you lie down on the gray seat, smooth legs spread wide enough for Mr Mechanic to feast on your sopping wet sex. And he bends down as fast as he could, his tiny mouth leaving wet kisses all over your thighs, eliciting trembling moans from you. Next he spreads apart the pink-brown flesh of your pussy; the pink crevice so moist, the clit throbbing with much anticipation. Mr Taylor first kisses the slightly moving clit, followed by a long lick on your labia in an upwards motion. As if he is scooping up your tangy juices. 

You could only moan out loud, "Ohhhh!!!", hanging on to the headrests to try keep yourself controlled. But to no avail as The Blonde Mechanic continues licking up your sticky nectar, the sapphire eyes looking up at you from time to time. Fast, flicking licks; then slowing down, making your clit even more sensitive. He's not satisfied with that alone, though - you can feel two fingers slide into your hole (knowing you had your hymen break as a sports-loving teen years back), and immediately you grip onto his short, unruly, yet spiky blonde locks. But then he stops and gets up to undo the buttons of his loose shirt and unzip his jeans. Mr Taylor's body wasn't as perfect as Michelangelo's David, but Roger's torso was firm, and his nipples look inviting enough to be licked and played with. The cock isn't bad either; it looks thick enough, and you can tell the length is nice enough for a deep penetration. "You see, all of my services are paid, except for this one," he says with a smirk.

"Please... I want that grease gun in me..." was your desperate plea for his cock to enter your eager love hole; and with a smile, Roger pushes his thick cock inside your pussy, taking great care not to hurt you.

"Ahh yes... your... cock... feels... so... fucking... good...!!" You whimper and mutter through him pumping in and out of your wet, swelling cunt. Such an expert Mr Taylor is; he knows how to control you in this wild ride. You just want to cum over and over in your own car, by a man you never thought would be _that_ with all the automobile stuff. "Hnngh... you look... so gorgeous... when you get fucked..." Roger remarks as he thrusts, his voice a bit rougher. "Now let me bend you, babe..." He helps you as you bend over for him, making sure your ass is all for him to slap as he continues this backseat fucking session. Roger goes deeper this time; his grunts accentuating each thrust while you squeal and shake. Then a series of hard, sharp slaps hit your left arse cheek, then the right, then to the left - soon you begin to scream inside the car, as he increases the speed and rhythm of his deep, penetrative fucking. Within a few seconds, you're back again to lying on the backseat couch; Roger taking hold of your sweaty tits as he resumes penetrating you, going slow as he did at the beginning, taking his time to look into your flushed face. And that's when he takes you into another French kiss; you can taste your pussy cream upon his mouth devouring yours. Now he breaks off the kiss, and he goes back to the fast rhythm of his lovemaking, his balls slapping against your ass.

"Cum for me, babe... cum for me!"

"Yes... please... I want all you cum... inside me... please!!!"

Roger grunts loudly as you scream into orgasm with hands clinging to his neck - his cock buried deep inside your contracting pussy, all the cum going in, as if he's just filling up an engine oil tank. Tears of bliss faintly stream down your eyes. He buries his face on your chest. The car's interior smelled of sex, and his perfume.

"Just call me if you ever have problems with your car again, but I doubt it will," says Roger.

"I know," you smile, "but I can always call you if you want a shag, right?" Your fingers lightly caressing his messy hair.

"Of course, I'm always free to cum and cum again," giggles the Mechanic.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are still appreciated.


End file.
